


that one where nezumi's an idiot and shion has a cute laugh

by viscrael



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: "i got my hand stuck in a vending machine pls help" au, M/M, Nonbinary Character, might end up multichapter if i get any response?? or inspiration, nezumi being completely whipped, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3522713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscrael/pseuds/viscrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Literally all I wanted was some fucking Doritos.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	that one where nezumi's an idiot and shion has a cute laugh

**Author's Note:**

> guess whos avoiding homework

“Literally _all_ I wanted was some fucking Doritos.”

Nezumi sighed, something he tried not to do so often, but he figured this particular situation warranted a sigh or two. His back was cramping, his knees beginning to hurt, and he was half positive he was going to end up with a concussion from banging his head against the glass enough. “Great,” he mumbled, and flexed his hand where it was stuck in the vending machine.

Footsteps sounded down the nearly empty hallway; immediately, he was on high alert, waiting to see whom it would be. There wasn’t really anyone after school at this hour, except a few teachers maybe—after all, it was a Friday _and_ the last day before a break, and the library had already closed about thirty minutes ago. He had stayed after to finish a theater project with a few other kids, but they’d gone home a while ago, and he was just waiting for his sibling to finish whatever the fuck they’d been doing anyway.

If it were his choice, he would’ve skipped last period and gone home early anyway, but alas, he couldn’t, and now he would pay the price for trying to be a decent student for once.

Around the hallway came a kid Nezumi had only seen once or twice; they shared the same History of Americas class—and Financial Aid at the beginning of the year—but they never spoke. The guy was some sort of child prodigy or whatever, so he seemed to hang around mostly with other such prodigies—because of this, they didn’t exactly run in the same circle or interact much. In fact, when Nezumi racked his brain for a name, he couldn’t come up with one.

The boy stopped once he saw Nezumi sitting on the ground on his knees, arm stuck pathetically in the vending machine.

“Um,” he said.

Nezumi sighed in response. The boy took that as a sign to continue.

“What’re you doing?” He titled his head a little, eyes wide with a mix of confusion and curiosity, and the intensity of his expression made Nezumi vaguely uncomfortable. But that could’ve also been his arm getting tired.

“Having an intimate discussion with the chips I’m currently clutching onto for dear life. What else.”

To his surprise, the boy blinked twice before his face split into a grin. He giggled a little, his hand coming up to cover his mouth like he was embarrassed, but after a second it turned into full on laughing, until he was bent over clutching his stomach, tears forming in the corner of his eyes, and Nezumi swore he heard him snort once or twice.

Nezumi mirrored the boy’s earlier blinking.

His laugh was really cute.

Once he noticed that the other was staring at him, the kid calmed down finally, wiping the tears away and coughing a couple times to stifle anymore giggling. He cleared his throat, brushing white hair away from his face, and started, “Do you need some help?”

As reluctant as Nezumi was to accept help from this kid—who was surprisingly cute, what the fuck, _calm down brain_ —he was also in a bit of a predicament, and he figured that a classmate finding him like this would be considerably less humiliating that Inukashi finding him like this. So, with a final sigh, he nodded, and the kid beamed at him before crouching down next to him.

“I don’t think you ever told me your name,” the kid said, and Nezumi silently thanked the Lord for having gotten out of being the one to admit he didn’t know anything about the other.

“It’s Nezumi.”

His hands stopped where they were reaching into the machine to help pull out Nezumi’s. He turned his eyes, red and too intense for someone who’d just doubled over laughing, to the other. “What about your real name?”

“That _is_ my real name.” Narrowing eyes.

A quirked eyebrow in response, white just like his hair. “I know for a fact your parents wouldn’t name you that.”

Nezumi tried for a grin. “You’re right about that. But as far as I’m concerned, you don’t really need to know the grimy details to help me out right now, so.”

He sighed. “Valid point. I’m Shion.”

Conversation apparently over, he went back to helping pull Nezumi’s hand out, too close for comfort but seemingly not paying attention to that. It took longer than what either wanted it to, and Nezumi was sure he’d had a bruise on his hand by tomorrow. But eventually he was free, Inukashi thankfully still nowhere to be found.

Once out, Shion put his hands on his hips, while Nezumi unceremoniously threw his bag of Doritos in his backpack. “So, why the name?”

“Why the hair?” Nezumi shot back, sending him a half-hearted grin. Shion glared, but it looked more like a pout, which should _not_ have been attractive. He opened his mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Inukashi turning the corner and spotting them.

“There you are, you bastard!” They yelled, pushing past Shion to grab Nezumi’s arm and beginning to pull him along. “I’ve been running around the school looking for you because you wouldn’t answer your fucking phone!”

“I was busy,” he answered, and he heard Shion giggle quietly behind him. “Which reminds me,” he said, escaping his adopted sibling’s grip and turning back to the white-haired boy. He pulled his phone from his pocket, ignoring the 15 missed calls and 23 text messages from Inukashi (all saying pretty much the same thing), and handed it to Shion once it was on his Phone app.

Shion blinked and before he could even get the question out, Nezumi answered, “Put your number in.”

Much to Nezumi’s amusement, his face immediately turned pink, and he stuttered a quiet, “O-okay,” before typing in his number quickly and handing it back to its owner. Nezumi smiled again, a little less harsh than previous times, and gave a small wave. “See ya, Shion,” he said, and then to Inukashi, “Let’s go.”

As they were leaving the building, Inukashi rolled their eyes and scoffed. “You made me wait even longer than I already had been so you could hit on some kid. He looked scared shitless, you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

 

..

 

_To: **white-haired anime kid**_

_Sent at: 7:42 PM_

Guess who.

 

..

 


End file.
